Dancing In The Rain
by idyllic nocturne
Summary: A modern KK! Kally's sick of everyone thinking she's so naive. She knows plenty about life, and she doesn't need some stupid guy to tell her she doesn't.


**i·dyl·lic **adj

_1. serenely beautiful, untroubled, and happy_

_2. like an idyll, especially in having a simple, unspoiled, and especially rural charm_

**noc·turne **n

_1. a musical composition, especially for the piano, that suggests a tranquil, dreamy mood._

_2. a painting of a night scene_

Encarta® World English Dictionary © 1999 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved. Developed for Microsoft by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc.

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**Disclaimer**:

Idyllic stared at Kaddar. For a moment, she was able to maintain a look of contentment and serenity, but she soon fell into loud, raucous bouts of laughter.

"What? Just _what_, exactly, do you find so amusing?" he demanded when she paused to catch her breath.

That only sent her laughing again. She gestured to her laptop as she fell to the floor.

Kaddar rolled his eyes and started to read what was left on the screen.

Oh.

"Hey, that's not funny! Who the hell wrote this?" His eyes remained glued to the story, _The Very Secret Diary of Emperor Kaddar Iliniat_. "Lady Silvamord, I am coming to kill you!"

Idyllic finally caught her breath and stood back up. "Now, now. She gives you the time of your life in numerous other stories, with Kalasin," she giggled, "and Zaimid." _And there was that time when you drunkenly told Professor Lindhall…_

He gasped in imperial outrage.

"Oh, don't be so imperially outraged. Her stories are positively _superb_. Now, are you going to do the job that I brought you here to do or not?"

Kaddar sighed. "Idyllic Nocturne would just like to say that she owns nothing, zilch, nada, and unless the big guy in the sky takes pity on her poor soul, it will probably remain that way, though preferably in France. Oh, and the timing is off on certain things, but it's AU anyway."

Idyllic bowed and started to skip around the room, flinging multi-colored confetti into the air.

"You know, so far nothing I have seen gives the impression that you are even remotely serene. You need a new name."

Idyllic simply shrugged and started the story.

**Story:**

-.-.-

Kalasin Conté sighed as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. In three weeks she would be married. In three weeks she would be married to a man she had never met, talked to, or even seen a picture of.

Frankly, she thought her life had turned into a living hell.

All she knew was that her fiancé owned a very wealthy and productive business, that this arranged marriage was essential to Tortall Industry's survival, and that her name would soon be changed to Kalasin Iliniat.

Living, breathing hell.

She pulled her hair back into a severe knot, just as the women in her father's office (excluding her mother and aunts Alanna and Daine when they stopped by) did.

She didn't look hideous, she never really did, but she did look… stern; severe. It truly was a shame, a crime really, to have to wear her hair in such an insipid fashion. Her hair was _obviously_ meant to cascade down her back, so that it would shine blue-black in the light.

Kalasin looked at the engagement ring on her hand with disinterest. It was flashy and expensive, but she had always grown up with both. What she really wanted was a small outdoor wedding in the afternoon sun, and a little house in the forest, like Snow White's cottage, not that she could tell a soul.

Absolute hell.

She took one last look at her reflection, and made up her mind. She would make the most of these last three weeks of freedom, no matter what. Starting with the ring. She took it off, and threw it onto the bed.

As for tonight, well, tonight she was going clubbing.

-.-.-

Her elder brother Roald stepped into the room, and barely avoided being hit in the head with a red skirt.

"Kally, is there any particular reason why you're tearing your wardrobe apart, or are you doing it just for kicks?"

Despite being buried under a mountain of clothes, Kalasin still managed to give him a lethal glare.

"If you must know, I'm looking for my blue silk shirt. You know, the halter top." Why she thought he had any idea about _anything_ that had to do with her wardrobe was beyond him.

A scrap of sapphire fabric that didn't look like it would be able to cover anything on a _doll_ caught his eye. "You don't mean this, do you?" Please oh please—

"You found it! Thanks, Roald. Hey, hand me that black skirt over there and leave, will you?" She guided him to the door. "Thanks again, brother dearest."

He stared as the door slammed in his face. Well, that visit had been productive. Roald, just back from his honeymoon, had wanted to take his little sister into his arms, to tell her that of course her marriage would be wonderful because after all, wasn't his? But he knew that she would never let him do that. All she planned to do was have the time of her life before she was forced to settle down.

Kalasin opened the door dressed, in his opinion, in clothes completely inappropriate seeing as she was engaged. The little black skirt sat too low on her hips and came to high on the thigh, and—gods, how could that even be considered a shirt? It was hardly more than a ribbon.

"Roald? You're still here?"

It was obvious that she was planning on hitting the clubs, something that he absolutely would not allow for her to do alone. Despite how she dressed, his little sister was still innocent little Kally.

In Kalasin's world, a man would offer to buy a woman a drink and they would chat until the drink, the interest, or his money ran out. The end. In Roald's world, men offered to buy a woman a drink when they wanted a little sumthin' sumthin'; something that his sister _would not_ be offering.

He would simply have to follow her.

-.-.-

He was getting married.

Damn his stupid uncle! If it weren't for him, Kaddar knew that this whole mess would never have happened.

Stupid, _stupid _uncle! With one move, Orzone had not only endangered both Carthak International and Tortall Industry, but also destroyed his nephew's cherished bachelorhood.

Kaddar looked around his office. If things didn't work out well between his fiancée and he, he could always spend every waking moment in his office.

Oh, who was he kidding? His office was bleak, full of gunmetal grey, and _boring_. Kaddar wanted color, not only in his office, but in his life as well.

Which he would probably never have.

How depressing.

Kaddar leapt out of his chair. If he was doomed to a life of boredom and nagging, so be it, but it absolutely would not happen while he was still a bachelor.

Tonight, he was going to have a little fun.

-.-.-


End file.
